


My Waterloo

by MissBianca



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, I wanted to write something in Katya's voice and this was an AQ request so, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Songfic, basically just a cute study in characterization, better yet look up trixie and katya performing it bc that's the inspiration here, but if you're not familiar with the Abba song Waterloo I'd go look it up, they're guys but with drag names for obvious reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 20:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11112717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissBianca/pseuds/MissBianca
Summary: It’s like the song is prodding at Katya to do something, to just surrender already, and let himself try happiness for a change. And maybe it’s the late hour, or the sight of Trixie asleep on his shoulder, but Katya kind of wants to just fucking take the leap and do it.





	My Waterloo

It’s three AM, and Waterloo is stuck in Katya’s head. 

The song is catchier than a cold, and he can’t get rid of it. Normally, he wouldn’t mind - he likes Waterloo. It’s more his current situation, as it relates to the song, that makes it problematic, because his brain has anxious speculation down to a science. 

The idea of grabbing his earbuds and listening to something else is dismissed as quickly as it comes, mostly because at the moment, Trixie is asleep next to him.

Even though it’s irritating, he has to appreciate the irony of the situation. Trixie being cuddled up next to him is both the reason why Katya would rather not have Waterloo stuck in his head at this precise moment, and the reason why he can’t go get his earbuds and listen to something else. 

Trixie is bare-chested, and clinging to Katya’s arm like it’s a stuffed animal, warm cheek squished against Katya’s shoulder. He’s also snoring quietly, which is something he’ll deny tomorrow morning in a muffled yell while he brushes his teeth, wearing nothing but a towel.

Katya smiles faintly at the dimly lit ceiling. Briefly, he wonders whether this is a normal-people-feeling, this tugging in his chest that makes his stomach flip whenever he imagines being domestic with Trixie. 

From the day he’d met him in the workroom, Trixie had swept Katya up into a hot pink, sweaty, malibu Barbie and blonde russian lady-Ken Los Angeles fairytale, filling Katya’s head with crazy ideas like  _ destiny _ , and  _ love at first sight, _ and  _ sharing a dog and life and pastel yellow rubber duck _ . 

It was as if Trixie was trying his hardest with every laugh and smile and phone call at midnight to make Katya abandon his bitter grip on reality and fall,  _ hard _ . And for the first time ever, he had. 

Dating isn’t a thing that Katya does, and he rarely thinks about the implications behind being  _ in love _ with someone. As a result, he had no idea what to do with this new information, and still doesn’t - and if he’s honest, it scares him. A lot.

Katya never would’ve expected Trixie to make his heart ache like this, but here he is. He thinks that maybe, normal-people-feelings like romantic love really are as dramatic as they’re made out to be.

A lot of the time, he does want to say something about how he feels. Or maybe just kiss Trixie randomly before they go to sleep, or reshape one of Trixie’s flower crowns into a makeshift bouquet and profess his love. But then he remembers that the thought of being in a committed relationship is fucking  _ terrifying _ . And for Trixie, a real relationship is the only option. 

So now, they’re stuck in some kind of fucked up limbo, touring together and sleeping in each others’ beds most nights, but only kissing for audiences and leaving  _ everything _ unspoken. 

Katya would like to think that they’re both just waiting for the other to make the first move. Realistically, though, he knows that Trixie won’t make the first move, not unless he knows Katya wants to be with him for real.

So they’re both keeping their mouths shut, but Katya’s the only person they’re really waiting on here. 

Katya sighs, blinking up at the ceiling and rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. 

_ Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war, _ the voices sing in Katya’s head. He can’t help but picture Trixie’s face, eyebrows raised, a small smile on his lips.  _ Waterloo, promise to love you forevermore.  _

It’s like the song is prodding at him to do something, to just surrender already, and let himself try happiness for a change. And maybe it’s the late hour, or the sight of Trixie asleep on his shoulder, but Katya kind of wants to just fucking take the leap and do it. 

The idea to do Abba songs for their lipsync duet had been an odd one, but Katya really was down for anything, just as long as it made Trixie happy. Of course, Dancing Queen was an obvious choice for one of the numbers - cliched, catchy, and unbelievably iconic. 

Trixie claimed to have picked the other, Waterloo, at random. But at this point, Katya is convinced that the choice must’ve come down to either witchcraft, conspiracy, or Trixie’s history with musical theater. Most likely a combination of the three. 

And it’s weird, Katya knows that. Having a corny, perky song from the 70’s as a soundtrack to what exists of his love life is weird. But he’s pretty sure - no, positive - that Waterloo was somehow written about him and Trixie. 

And he’s starting to suspect that Trixie knows this too, and has since the beginning.  

And if Trixie does know, Katya speculates, he must’ve picked it deliberately, in some crazy Ryan Murphy-esque scheme to use music to fix all of his relationship troubles. 

It was a pretty good scheme, though, Katya has to admit. Mostly because it had worked. 

“Tracy,” Katya whispers loudly, in a sudden burst of bravery. 

There’s no reply, and Katya taps his fingers against his palm anxiously, worrying his lower lip between his teeth until it’s sore. 

“Tallulah.”

Still no reply, and Katya sighs dramatically, his body almost buzzing with building anticipation. He doesn’t even know what he’d say if Trixie was awake, and it occurs to him that maybe he should rehearse it first. 

_ Trix, did you pick Waterloo deliberately? Was there a reason? _

No, too pushy. He tries again.

_ I was thinking about Waterloo. Not the historical event, the song, y’know, the one you wanted us to perform for thousands of overexcited club-goers.  _

Already too long-winded.

_ Trixie, do you think Abba wrote Waterloo about us?  _

Trixie would only assume he was setting up a time-travel joke, and in all fairness, he’d probably be right. 

_ Tracy, I think I’m finally facing my Waterloo. As in, it’s in front of me, right now. It’s you.  _

Sounds too much like a joke. 

“Brian,” Katya says finally, tapping Trixie’s stomach with his knuckles. “Brian.”

Trixie wakes up with a gasp and a jolt, and when Katya looks over at him, he’s wide-eyed and confused.

“Wha-”

“Ithinkyou’remywaterloo,” Katya interrupts, the words coming out in a rush, all blurred together. He can hear his own heartbeat, suddenly far faster than is probably healthy. 

Trixie frowns at him.

“Kat, it’s the middle of the night and I, like, just woke up,” Trixie says, exasperated. “Maybe try talking slower?”

“I think,” Katya starts again, swallowing hard and looking at Trixie again. “You’re my waterloo.”

There’s a pause, a moment of total silence.

Trixie’s mouth falls open slightly, his eyes suddenly alert and awake. And then, he stifles a yawn, and props his head up on his hand, blinking down at Katya nonchalantly. 

Katya stares back at him, baffled by his lack of response. 

“Are you gonna explain, or…” Trixie says finally, tone almost sassy.

“My waterloo,” Katya repeats slowly, and Trixie only raises an eyebrow at him. “I’m…I’m surrendering? You won.”

“As great as it is to finally win something, I’m still gonna need you to decode what exactly you’re saying,” Trixie snarks.

“The  _ song _ , Trixie!” Katya exclaims. “How are you not getting this?” 

Trixie shrugs.

Katya lets out a sigh, frustrated at how difficult Trixie is making this.

“The song that we perform, together, inspired by Napoleon’s surrender at Waterloo, that you picked out for us,” Katya tries. “And you make me look like a real woman because you’re so much taller than me, and…” 

“Yeah…?”

“The song, Waterloo,” he continues to ramble, gesturing with the hand that’s not being held against Trixie’s chest. “You know, ‘my fate is to be with you’, ‘promise to love you forevermore’, ‘I feel like I win when I lose’ and all of that romantic cliche bullshit? Waterloo?”

Katya stares up at him for a moment, eyes wide, expecting some kind of response.  

The corner of Trixie’s mouth twitches slightly, and Katya narrows his eyes.

“Wait a second, are you fucking with me?” 

“No, of course not,” Trixie replies, clearly trying to stop the smile from spreading across his face. 

“Oh my god, Tracy, you  _ cunt! _ ” Katya exclaims through a wild burst of laughter. 

Trixie is full on grinning now, excitement written all over his face as he laughs. His hand slides into Katya’s, interlocking their fingers between their bodies, and Katya’s heart jumps. 

“I still want an explanation,” Trixie insists. 

“I hate you,” Katya comments, shaking his head, his cheeks already sore from how big his smile is. He looks up at the ceiling again, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. 

“No you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” Katya agrees. “I love you.”

He looks back at Trixie just in time to see the other man’s lips part slightly, his eyes soft as he stares down at Katya.

“I love you too,” he says quietly. 

“But are you like, like, um,” Katya starts, nervously. “I mean, I’m…I’m in love with you, Brian.” 

“I know,” Trixie says, smiling. “That’s what I meant, too.”

“But -”

“I’m not just gonna fuck you, though,” Trixie interrupts. 

“No! No, that’s okay,” Katya says quickly. “I don’t want you to do that, that’s not what I - what I want, either.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Trixie swallows visibly, his thumb running over the back of Katya’s hand. 

“You sure you really mean that?” He asks finally. 

“Yeah,” Katya nods. “I’m giving in. Can I take you out on, like, a date or something? We can do it your way, or, I mean, any way you want, because I have no fucking clue what I’m doing at all, and I just want you to be happy. ‘I was defeated, you won the war’, and all that.”

“‘Promise to love you forevermore,’” Trixie sings the next line of the song under his breath, squeezing Katya’s hand and smiling at him so affectionately that it feels like his stomach might literally burst from the butterflies. 

“So that’s a yes, then? I’m taking you out?”

“Can you kiss me first?” 

“I don’t know if you want that,” Katya says, shaking his head. “You’re shirtless, and I don’t trust myself to -”

Before he can get another word out, Trixie’s kissing him, quickly letting go of his hand in favor of cupping his jaw instead to pull him closer. 

They’ve kissed before, onstage and in front of a camera that one time, but that had lipstick and an audience and a point involved. And besides, it wasn’t really them, Brian and Brian, doing the kissing.

This isn’t like that. This feels totally new, and real, and private. Trixie is kissing him like he’s been waiting to do it for months, and Katya knows the feeling. He tastes like mint from his toothpaste and strawberry lip balm, and the unique combination is suddenly Katya’s favorite thing in the universe. 

When Trixie finally lets him go, hand sliding down to rest on Katya’s chest, Katya can’t help but grin up at him giddily. 

“What?” Trixie demands, the corner of his mouth curled up in a half smile. 

“Nothing,” Katya says quickly, grabbing Trixie’s hand from his chest and interlinking their fingers instead. “Nothing, I just, I really do love you.”

There’s not a lot of light in the room, but Katya swears he can see Trixie’s cheeks turn pink, and he almost wants to cry from the rush of adoration that surges through his chest. 

“Shut up,” Trixie mutters finally, looking down. 

“I do!”

Trixie just shakes his head, and repositions himself Katya’s arm is around him. He lies back down again, his head resting on Katya’s chest now, tucked into his side. 

“Oh, so we’re cuddling for real now,” Katya observes. His heartbeat is still ringing in his ears, but he thinks he likes the closeness. “Okay, that’s cool.”

“Good,” Trixie murmurs. 

Katya sighs, and they fall silent. The chorus of Waterloo loops through Katya’s mind, still on repeat, and he can’t help but smile. 

_ Waterloo, couldn’t escape if I wanted to. Waterloo, knowing my fate is to be with you. _

“Trix?”

“Mmm?”

“Are you going to sleep?”

“Trying.” 

“Oh, okay,” Katya says hurriedly. “I’m sorry, I’m just -”

“Wired, I know,” Trixie finishes for him, his voice heavy with sleep. “Here, lemme have my hand back.”

Katya lets go of his hand, frowning slightly, and lets out a little ‘oh!’ as Trixie rests it on his side instead, arm wrapped around his middle. 

With a sigh, Trixie starts to stroke his side gently through the soft fabric of his t-shirt, hand moving up and down slowly beneath his ribs. The close contact is nerve-wracking and different for Katya, but he doesn’t want to say so, because then Trixie might move away.

“It’s okay,” Trixie murmurs, and Katya realizes he must be able to feel the tension in his body. “You’re safe with me.” 

“I know,” Katya whispers. “I know that, I do. Don’t, um…don’t stop.”

“Okay.” Trixie yawns. “I might fall asleep, though.”

Katya giggles, and he thinks he can feel Trixie smile against his chest, but maybe that’s just his imagination.

“Love you,” he says again after a moment, his voice still barely a whisper. 

“Shhh.”

“Sorry.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, an AQ anon requested a fluffy Trixya fic surrounding Waterloo, maybe it having some special meaning to them. And I suddenly remembered my own conclusion that even though the song came out in the 70s, it was still somehow written about Trixya. So this is just a lil oneshot, set during their tour of Australia back before Unhhhh and all of that. It's short, as you can see, but I had fun.


End file.
